La Stessa Cosa
by HamDemon
Summary: One-shot prequel to "Cosa Nostra." On an otherwise ordinary winter day, infamous terrorist figure, Giacomo Dante, resurfaces and stages a daring attack on a beloved Venetian landmark. The cyborgs of the Social Welfare Agency are sent in, hoping only to survive whatever lies in wait for them. But the Alvise Twins have more ambitious plans for the day.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Gunslinger Girl or its characters, which were taken from the manga series of the same name, all of which are the property of their creator, Yu Aida. The characters Caterina and Celestina are my creations. Any similarities to actual people, places (save for St. Mark's Basilica and San Clemente), and events are purely coincidental._

**La Stessa Cosa**

Earlier This Morning

"I think you're overreacting, Princess," said Celestina.

Triela scoffed incredulously. "Overreacting?" she said.

"Yeah," said Caterina, "You should calm down. Stress isn't good for your complexion."

"You started a fire in the armory!"

"It was only a little fire," said Caterina.

"And _besides_," said Celestina, kicking her sister under the table, "The building was already _like _that when we _got _there."

Triela stared down at her two proteges, both fully aware that this was a feeble lie, neither having a care in the world about it. She crossed her arms and said with a steely voice, "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Only a little stupid," said Caterina. Celestina snickered.

Triela bristled from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head. She clenched her fists and squared her shoulders. She inhaled deeply, opened her mouth to dole out punishment, and…

"Triela!" Hilshire came into the room, panting slightly, "Get your gear. We're heading to Venice."

Triela deflated. "Can't you knock?" she said, "I was in the middle of something."

"This is serious. We have a hostage situation."

"Sounds delicate," said Celestina, "I guess that means we're out of the picture?"

"No," said Hilshire, "You two are coming as well."

"We're _all _going?" said Triela, "For one group of hostage takers?"

"This isn't just any hostage situation. Intel says Giacomo Dante has resurfaced."

Triela paled slightly at the name. She said nothing until she turned her attention back to the Twins, both of whom were unfazed. "Get your gear," she said, "We've got work to do."

* * *

That Afternoon

The bulk of the cyborg group sat in the back of the cabin cruiser docked outside of St. Mark's Basilica. The abandoned square was silent as it held its breath. Overhead loomed St. Mark's Campanile, occupied by the terrorists and their hostages. The potential for terrifying violence filled this tower, made it hum and vibrate in anticipation. In the boat, the girls sat and chatted.

"So this Dante guy," said Caterina, "Is he supposed to be a big deal?"

"Are you serious?" said Chiara, "He's only the most dangerous terrorist in Europe."

"Well excuse us," said Celestina, "We only came to the Agency several months ago."

_And besides that_, Triela thought to herself, _The Twins had been sheltered within their father's estate their entire lives. It's no wonder they haven't learned anything about politics until now._

"All you need to know," said Silvia, "Is that when Giacomo Dante shows up, people die."

Caterina laughed. "He wouldn't be much of a terrorist otherwise, would he?"

"Besides," said Celestina, "The same could be said of us."

"Don't let Jean or Jose hear you talking like that, girls," said Alessandro from the wheel of the boat, "They won't take it well if they find out you're not taking this operation seriously."

"Why?" said Caterina.

Alessandro said, "Dante was the one responsible for the attack that killed their family. For them, this mission is personal."

Hearing this, the Twins exchanged a mischievous glance. _In other words_, said Celestina.

_…We can score major points with them if we take care of Dante ourselves_, said Caterina.

The girls continued to talk for a while. All thoughts of the mission and of the imminent bloodshed were pushed aside in favor of what they imagined to be "ordinary" conversation. They spoke of music and movies, of books, of food, of Christmas and other holidays. They spoke of travel and tourism. They spoke of everything they were allowed to experience within their tightly controlled, closely sheltered lives. But none spoke of the future.

Then Jean appeared in the doorway. There were no greetings. His eyes scanned over every girl in the cabin without emotion, as if peering inside of each to measure their strength and resolve. He said, "Triela and Beatrice will scale the walls of the bell tower while Rico provides cover with the grenade launcher. Chiara and Silvia will accompany the GIS. Aim for the viewing platform, eliminate all opposition. Henrietta will give support where needed."

Each of the girls addressed said, "Yes, sir." Jean turned to leave.

"Sir," Celestina called after him.

"What about us?" said Caterina.

"You're on standby," said Jean, who hardly paused to give his answer.

"To be honest, girls," said Triela, as she and the others shuffled out of the cabin, "I think that's a wise choice. I'm not sure you two are ready to go up against the likes of Dante."

"If this guy's such a psycho, you'll need all hands on deck," said Celestina, "Let us come with you. If you give us the order we can't be expected to disobey you."

Triela scoffed. "As if you two ever follow my orders on your own. Just sit tight, okay? The last thing we need right now is to attract Jean's attention. I think we all know what would happen if they decided to recondition you."

They did. If the Twins were forced to undergo reconditioning, all their memories of Lino Baldassare—and, consequently, all their desire to eliminate him—would disappear in a puff of smoke. "You don't have to worry," said Triela, who failed to realize that the Twins had ulterior motives, "We'll take care of this and be back before you know it." She hopped onto the dock and met with Hilshire, who gripped a small wood saw in his hand.

The Twins exchanged another glance. Celestina said, _This won't do._

_Are you thinking what I'm thinking? _said Caterina.

_As always_, said Celestina. The Twins exited the cabin and went ashore. Caterina spotted Triela and Hilshire disappearing into the archway of the basilica. She followed, making sure to keep her distance and to remain inconspicuous.

Meanwhile, Celestina approached Alessandro and Petrushka as they boarded their speedboat. "Signore Sandro," she said, "Would you mind if I accompanied you?"

"Shouldn't you be waiting for orders?" said the handler.

"I should," said Celestina, "But if I'm going to be sitting in a boat for nothing I might as well make it a fast one."

Petrushka said, "Where's your sister?"

"She wanted to sit somewhere quiet."

"Are we talking about the same Caterina here?"

"Truth be told, she's upset that we were placed on standby. I decided to give her some space to stew."

"You know what?" said Sandro, "I'll let you come with us on one condition."

"And what would that be?"

"Our job is to keep an eye out for places where Dante could possibly be hiding. It's highly possible that he's pulling the strings from another location. If you promise to contribute to the thought process, you're welcome to come aboard."

Celestina pretended to think about this. She said, "I don't know. I'm not very familiar with the behavioral patterns of other people. Not the way you are, anyway. What kind of man is this Giacomo Dante?"

"He's a charismatic psychopath known widely as a vicious fighter and cunning strategist."

Celestina grinned. "Well in that case," she said, "It sounds like I'll be able to understand him perfectly."

* * *

Minutes Later

Celestina and the other Fratello bobbed idly in the middle of the channel, each in thought, not yet ready to share any hypotheses concerning their target's location. "Where do you think he'll be?" said Celestina.

Alessandro said, "With Dante, we can't be too sure."

"What makes you think he's not in the bell tower?"

"I have a hunch. Same as you. That's the real reason you're tagging along, isn't it?"

Celestina chuckled. "You've caught me. I suppose I expected as much from you."

"With your level of experience, to anticipate that our target isn't where we think he is, is impressive. You have good instincts."

"Why did you decide to go looking for him?" said Petra.

Celestina shrugged. "Rina and I think we can benefit if we personally hand him over to the Croce Brothers."

"If you want to gain Jean's favor," said Alessandro, "Maybe it's not such a good idea to disobey his orders."

"We'll cross that bridge when we reach it," Celestina said dismissively. "Besides, he can't complain when we serve him up some Giacomo Dante _al sangue_."

"You're pretty confident, aren't you?" said Petrushka.

"It's the key to success," said Celestina.

"In any case," said Alessandro, "If you don't want to be punished you'll have to find the bastard before anyone else. How do you plan on doing that?"

Celestina stroked her chin with a finger. "The military must have covered the most obvious areas, right?"

"That's right."

"And you, being a something-or-other who specializes in intelligence, must have had the others scout out the more devious vantage points according to your knowledge of Dante's psychological profile."

"Also true."

"And all of these searches so far have been conducted with_in _the military blockade?"

Alessandro paused. "Of course. The blockade covers the entirety of the main island, plus Maggiore and Giudecca."

"Sure, the perimeter's large," said Celestina, "But it's not very imaginative. Don't you think so?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Well, besides being pretty standard procedure, I don't think the boundaries take into account just how crazy this Dante is supposed to be. If I were to stage an attack like this from afar, I would've assumed the worst case scenario and guessed from the beginning the largest possible perimeter at my enemy's disposal. With this in mind, I could gauge from what distance I would be able to attack."

"You could maintain your effectiveness _and _maximize your chance of escape," said Petrushka, "Not bad."

"And it's true that Dante should be too smart to fall into the net cast by a simple blockade," said Alessandro, "But if he's not within the blockade, where else could he be hiding?"

Celestina shrugged. "That's all I've got. Rina and I haven't really been off the mainland until now."

Petrushka said, "It still has to be fairly close to the blockade. What about La Grazia?"

Alessandro shook his head. "No, the elevation's all wrong there. But…wait, of course! San Clemente!"

"That's two kilometers out," said Petrushka, "Even with a high powered rifle, that's pushing it."

"It wouldn't be easy," said Sandro, "But let's not forget who we're talking about here. Dante could pull it off."

"Great," said Celestina, "So let's go over there and bag the bastard."

"Hold on a moment. It's possible he's over there, but we can't abandon our post on a hunch, no matter how compelling."

"Well I've already done that. So just drop me off."

"But if he _is _there—and the more I think about it, the bigger that 'if' gets—sending you in alone would be dangerous."

"We know you're confident, Cina," said Petrushka, "But you just started at the Agency. And nobody, not even Triela, is good enough to go it alone."

Celestina sighed. "Listen," she said slowly, "Either you take me to San Clemente, or I swim there. There's no room for debate."

Sandro said, "But you don't know that he's really there."

"Maybe not. But like you said, Sandro, I've got pretty good instincts. And if yours are nagging at you, too, then how can I possibly ignore them?"

Neither Alessandro nor Petrushka responded to this at first. After a while, the former sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this," he said, "But we're taking you to San Clemente."

"Thank you, Sandro," said Celestina, "I think that's the right choice. Your hands are tied. Mine aren't."

"But," said Petrushka, "At the first sign of trouble, we're coming back to get you out. Not to take down Dante, not to try and stop whatever it is he's got planned. We're going to find you, hold you down, and call for backup. Got it?"

"Alright," said Alessandro, "If we're going to do this, we'd better do it now. The assault could begin at any moment." With this he gunned the engine of the speedboat southward.

Celestina furrowed her brow and set her jaw.

* * *

Meanwhile

"Just what are you doing?" said Triela, trying (and failing) to appear dignified while two operators from the GIS stroked her pigtails affectionately.

"They say rubbing a rabbit's foot will bring good luck," said one of the men.

From behind one of the pillars of the archway, Caterina peeked in on the scene with delight. She thought to herself, _Damn right it does! This is like a year's worth of ammunition against the Princess._

Triela opened her mouth to say something haughty, but was interrupted by a gruff voice which barked, "_Caporale!_ What do you think you're doing? I want you at the rendezvous point yesterday! Get moving!"

At the sound of this voice, the two GIS operatives stiffened and ran, without looking back, in the direction of their objective. Triela turned to the man, who was wearing a dark military beret and a jacket bearing the insignia of the _Gruppo di Intervento Speciale_. She seemed to recognize him.

"_Maggiore _Sales…" she said, trailing off slightly. "…I want you to know that your training saved my life."

_So that's where she learned to fight, _thought Caterina.

"Have you grown up any since then," said the Major, "_Leprotto?_"

Caterina quickly withdrew behind her pillar and clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. _Oh, _she thought, _That's too good! _

By the time she managed to calm herself down, the Princess and the Major had parted ways. Caterina proceeded to follow the former as close as she dared. She avoided the other Fratelli as well, but acted casually and purposefully whenever she neared members of the GIS. They were none the wiser.

After a short walk, Triela and Hilshire met with Beatrice and Bernardo. It was then that Caterina recalled their role in the attack. "There's no way I'll be able to sneak up the side of a building," she said to herself as the two Fratelli disappeared into a structure neighboring the tower. With this in mind, she sought out a more crowded entry point in which she might blend in with the other operatives. Eventually she found herself in the section of the archway which lead directly onto the catwalk. This was where the diversionary assault was to take place. If Caterina was to get into the tower, she would have to climb it from the bottom.

She spotted Silvia and Chiara, awaiting the order to begin the attack. She strolled past the shield-bearing GIS operatives and sidled up to the latter, who stood alone with her MC51 at the ready. "Hey," said Caterina, "How's it going?"

"Wh—Rina?!" said Chiara under breath, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Don't be rude. I'm here to help." Caterina drew her Tuma and primed it for combat.

"Shouldn't you be on standby?"

"I _am _on standby. But this way, if I'm issued orders, I'll already be in the building to carry them out. Smart, huh?"

"Seriously, Caterina, you'd better be messing with—" Chiara stopped. Her sensitive hears had picked up the deep _plunk! _of a grenade launcher in the distance. She looked up and with her eyes traced the trajectory of Rico's grenade, which trailed smoke like a white streamer in the sky. The projectile sailed into the side of the tower where it exploded with a great flash.

Somewhere behind the girls, a man yelled, "Go! Go! Go!" Silvia was the first out onto the walkway, carrying her Benelli and a prying tool. She immediately took fire from a light machine gunner on the second floor of the tower. Chiara followed close behind and fired into the window from which the hostile was shooting, killing the man. Caterina stuck close to Chiara and watched the other windows intently. That's when she saw it.

"RPG!" Caterina called out as the rocket was fired. She and Chiara sped up and managed to escape the blast radius, but her warning had come too late to save the GIS behind them.

Silvia had already crossed the catwalk by the time the other two arrived. Caterina broke away from Chiara and stacked herself behind Silvia so that, in response to Silvia's bewilderment, she could give the girl her widest grin. Chiara stacked herself against the opposite side of the main entrance.

"Caterina?" said Silvia, panting, upon seeing the third girl, "What are you—"

A voice on her radio came through. "Don't wait for backup," it said, "Rush in immediately."

Silvia used the tool in her hand to hack through the heavy door. She took one step into the threshold. Then she stopped. And stared.

Seeing this, Caterina reached over, grabbed the girl by her collar, and pulled her away from the door. She threw her violently to the ground as the explosives inside detonated, spewing fire and debris out of the entrance as from the maw of a dragon.

Though she felt the heat, and though shrapnel cut into her legs and back, Caterina was well enough to stand after the ground had stopped shaking. She bent over Silvia, whose forehead and face were stained with blood. "Are you alright?" she said.

Silvia nodded and, by leaning on the wall, managed to pull herself to her feet. "I'm okay," she said, "Is Chiara…?"

"I'm fine," Chiara grunted as she, too, propped herself up against the side of the building. Despite her reassurance, Chiara gripped one arm—which hung uselessly at her side—with her other. She was missing several fingers from both.

Silvia placed a finger to her ear. "Yes, sir…" she said into her communicator, "…No, sir. Affirmative." Then she removed the earpiece and offered it to Caterina.

Caterina took it and placed it into her own ear. Immediately Jean's stern voice came through. "Caterina," he said, "I don't know what you're doing there, but we'll discuss that later. Right now you need to push into the tower, eliminate all hostiles, and secure the hostages."

"Yes, sir," said Caterina, "But what about Silvia and Chiara?"

"Silvia will extract Chiara from the mission area. Their escape will be covered by Group Two, who will follow close behind you. Now get moving!"

"Yes, sir!" said Caterina.

"Here," said Silvia, handing Caterina her shotgun, "You're going to need this." She took a pouch of shells from her belt and gave these up as well.

Caterina nodded and, without another word, entered the lowest level of St. Mark's Campanile.

* * *

Meanwhile

There were ten seconds left.

"The _Maggiore _said we need to smash the enemy," said Triela, "But cyborgs don't usually operate that way, do we?"

There were five seconds left.

"Don't get carried away," said Hilshire through his communicator.

There were three seconds left.

"No heroics," said Triela, "Alright, Bice?"

Beatrice simply answered with a nod. There was no time left.

Both girls stepped out, aimed their grenade launchers, and fired. The hooks flew up and across the space between the building and the tower, lodging themselves into the stone just beneath the highest window. They took their ropes and swung across, planting their feet firmly against the wall of the tower. Then they began to climb, step by step, exposed and defenseless.

It was not long before a hostile was firing down at them from several floors up. Triela kicked off the wall, swaying sideways and narrowly dodging assault rifle fire. This bought her time. The target was killed immediately afterwards by Henrietta, who covered the two climbers from a nearby roof. The man fell limply between them and into the water below.

There was only a brief moment's respite when another hostile appeared to replace his fallen comrade. This one, however, hefted a rocket launcher on his shoulder.

Beatrice drew her Micro Uzi, clinging to her rope with one hand, and fired upwards at this new threat. The man flinched as machine pistol rounds exploded in the stonework around him, but he was not deterred. He aimed down at Beatrice and fired.

Triela took another step upwards, swung towards Beatrice, and gave the projectile a kick which sent it whirling outwards. It exploded harmlessly in midair.

The two girls climbed faster. They were nearly at the top. Step by step they approached the top floor, waiting for more hostiles to appear or another rocket to be fired at them, but none came. After a few frantic moments, they reached the top. Triela filled her lungs in preparation.

She and Beatrice vaulted through the window and climbed into the tower, firing all the while. Triela caught a hostile in the chest with a slug before charging another with her bayonet. Her opponent drew a knife, but she parried his thrust and countered with one of her own. Her blade punched through the man's torso. He fell to the ground, dead, as Triela brushed past him and continued further into the room.

Beatrice jumped to dodge hostile fire. Grabbing onto the ringer of the tower's bell, she swung and fired down at her opponent, catching him in the temple. She landed on a large crate and reloaded her weapon.

"We've taken the viewing platform," she reported at her handler's request, "We have not confirmed the presence of Giacomo Dante." She scanned the room briefly, wondering if perhaps she would see him among the bodies. Then a certain familiar scent caught her attention. She glanced upwards.

"Bernardo!" she said, "They've got a missile hanging from the ceiling!"

"Ignore the missile!" came the order from Jean, "Focus on finding Dante!"

"How will we find Dante if he's blown himself to a thousand pieces?" said Hilshire, "We need to pull out before they decide to detonate."

A familiar voice, which carried gravity and absolute authority, cut into the argument. "All Fratelli," he said, "This is Lorenzo. You are not to retreat. Continue the search for Giacomo Dante."

Triela took cover behind the wooden crate on which Beatrice was standing. She was reloading her shotgun when Hilshire's voice, strained by frustration, came through her communicator.

"Triela," he said, "Get downstairs. Now!"

As he said this, however, Triela's eye caught an assault rifle peeking out from behind cover. It had an underslung grenade launcher, which was pointed directly at…

"Bice!" Triela called out. She jumped and rammed Beatrice with her shoulder, knocking her aside. The grenade flew from its tube and struck Triela's temple, concussing her. She lay still on the floor, conscious, but dazed.

Beatrice defended her friend's body with all of the ferocity a young girl could muster.

"Bice," said Bernardo through his communicator, "You are not to retreat. Chief's orders."

"Yes, Bernardo," said Beatrice. She looked down at Triela, then up at the missile on the ceiling. She would not retreat. It was her duty to follow orders. It was also her duty to protect her friend. Something had to be done. She jumped up onto the crate and began to unhook the missile from its harness.

Gunfire exploded somewhere in the room. A shotgun. A Benelli, from the sound of it. Silvia? Beatrice looked down and was shocked to see Caterina standing over a dead hostile. She was sweating and panting, as if she had run all the way up to the viewing platform from the bottom floor, fighting through hostiles the entire way. In one hand, she gripped Silvia's primary weapon. In the other, she had a small gray box.

"_Ciao_," said Caterina, leaning on the wall to catch her breath. She held the box up for Beatrice to see. "This _pezzo di merda_," she said, kicking one of the corpses at her feet, "Was about to blow us all up."

At the sound of Caterina's voice, Triela's eyes snapped open. "What in God's name are you doing here?" she said. It took too much effort to prop herself up against the wooden crate. She would not have the strength to stand just yet.

Caterina said, "Don't worry, Princess. I'm on orders from Jean."

"Oh, really? So Jean ordered you to follow me?"

"Uh, well…yes?"

Triela sighed. "We don't have time for this, Rina. You have to help Bice get rid of the missile."

"Why?" said Caterina, jiggling the detonator in her hand again, "I've got this."

"They might have a backup."

"Alright, fine." Caterina removed the key from the detonator and dashed the device against the floor. Then she approached Beatrice as the latter jumped down from the crate, shouldering the missile. Caterina took her share of the burden and the two approached the window. That window. For some reason it filled her with dread.

A section of the wall exploded inward as they approached. Both girls paused, realizing immediately that they were under attack, but uncertain as to what course of action they should take. Should they continue towards the window, exposing themselves to another, more accurate, shot? Or should they take cover and risk having the missile detonated by a second device? Beatrice, with her duty in mind, took another step towards the window. But Caterina had a different set of priorities.

She wrapped her arms around Beatrice's waist, allowing her end of the missile to droop. Caterina twisted her body, tearing her friend away from the window and bringing her down to the floor. The missile fell as well, with a deep _clang!_

The two girls hit the tiles. Caterina could feel something warm and wet on her face and clothes. She opened her eyes to find that she was soaked in blood. _Cazzo_, she thought, _I was too late!_ She released what she thought was Beatrice's corpse. But Beatrice rolled over and pushed herself to her feet on one arm. Her only arm. All that remained of the other one was a ruined stump of torn flesh and shattered bone. Despite this, the girl rose with a look of determination on her face. She approached the missile again.

"Bice!" Triela called out, finding the strength to get to her feet, "Don't. We need to stop the bleeding. Rina, take care of the missile. Hurry!"

Caterina looked at the missile on the floor. Then she turned to the window. The shooter had that area dialed in now. But she had no choice. _Sorella, _she prayed, _Don't let me down!_

She got to her feet and made a dash for the missile. Without pausing, she squatted and lifted it with her legs and back, catching the weight on her shoulder. She ran straight for the window, as fast as she could with her burden, expecting to be torn to pieces at any moment by an anti-materiel round. With an escalating cry, Caterina planted her feet and threw the missile with all her might. It flew through the window and fell down before ultimately splashing into the canal below. It sank silently to the bottom with no trace save for the bubbles it created in the water.

"Huh," said Caterina, once again out of breath, "Look at that." Then a feeling hit her. A certain emotion. It was worry. Fear.

_Cina_, she said, _Where are you? Are you alright?_

The answer came then from her communicator. "Attention all Fratelli," Celestina's voice announced, "This is Celestina. I've found Giacomo Dante. I repeat: the target is in my cust—" Her transmission cut off.

"Rina," said Triela, who had treated Beatrice's wound as best she could, "Where's your sister?"

Caterina reached the answer instinctively. "South," she said, "Outside of the military blockade."

Triela placed a finger on her radio. "Hilshire," she said, "Beatrice is hurt and needs medical attention. Caterina and I need somebody to scramble a helicopter. Celestina's going to need help."

* * *

Minutes Earlier

"Here," said Alessandro, handing an earpiece to Celestina as she disembarked, "If you run into any trouble, announce it immediately."

"Will do," said Celestina, "Now get back to your post and keep an eye out. Just in case we're wrong about this."

"Be careful, Cina," said Petrushka as she and her handler took off once more into the channel.

Celestina waved as they left, promising nothing. Then she turned and proceeded further into the island. Since she would be wandering around the resort, she kept her Zastava concealed. Still, the thought that a bloodthirsty terrorist could be hiding among rich vacationers and wealthy families put her on edge.

Unlike Alessandro, Celestina was certain that she would find Dante here. There was no particular reason she felt this way. It just made sense to her. She knew little of the man besides what she had learned today, but if she were in his shoes, she would pick this island as her vantage point. It was safe, isolated, and, most importantly, the GIS and SWA had failed to anticipate the possibility of an attack from San Clemente Island. All she would need to make such a plan work was the right weapon.

Such a weapon would have to be powerful and would have to retain this power even at an extreme range. Because of this, Celestina knew that Dante would be using some sort of anti-materiel rifle. She had no idea what kind of security measures were present on the island, but if she could get close enough to her target to render such a rifle impractical in a firefight, then she would not have to take its power into consideration.

This just left one more problem to solve: where was Dante hiding? As she walked, Celestina looked about at the grounds of the resort. There was no one in sight. Since the island lay outside of the boundaries of the blockade, those on San Clemente had not been forced to evacuate. However, the majority of the people here at the time chose to cancel their reservations and leave anyway. As such, Dante would be able to access virtually any area of the grounds without fear of being interrupted or caught.

"Well," Celestina said, "The higher the better, I suppose." She scanned the wall of the main building, tracing a path in her mind. Satisfied, she began to climb up the face of the wall, using windowsills and other protrusions as handholds. She moved quickly but quietly to avoid alerting anyone that might be inside. Once she reached the third floor, she picked a vacant room. Then she punched a small hole in the glass with her elbow, reached through, and unlocked the window. Once inside she drew her Zastava.

Celestina left the room slowly and entered an unoccupied hallway. _He has to be on the north side_, she thought, stalking across the carpeted floor. She neither saw nor heard any sign of anyone, save for the rhythm of her own heart in her chest. She held her breath as she moved, listening intently.

She entered into a small lounge with marble flooring and modest furnishings. She crossed the room and approached the northern corridor when she heard muttering coming from the same direction. Swiftly, she pressed herself against the threshold to the corridor and stole a peek.

She saw two men standing before a large wooden crate placed under an open window. One, who was blonde with a rough face and low, furrowed brow, manned a Denel NTW-20. The other had dark skin and hair, glasses, ear protection, and a spotter's scope. Seeing them, Celestina knew that they were watching the campanile and was filled with dread by the thought that her friends were unaware of the danger. She had to stop them.

"Send it," said the dark-skinned man. In response, the blonde man fired his rifle.

_Dammit! _thought Celestina as she dashed out into the hallway. She pressed against the wall to minimize her chances of being spotted.

"You're off one meter to the right."

The blonde man adjusted his aim. Celestina thought she could close the distance before he could get off another shot. She was wrong. He fired again.

"That's a hit," said the dark-skinned man, "Good effect on target."

Celestina's blood ran cold. Whom they had hit and how badly she could not tell. She knew only that it was not her sister. But her hesitation might have cost her one of her friends. That was unacceptable. "Stop!" she commanded with her pistol raised, "Take another shot and I'll blow both of your goddamn heads off!" She continued to advance on the pair, keeping her sights trained on them. She stopped only several meters away.

The two men straightened and raised their hands, shocked to see the young girl. The blonde man said, "How did you—"

"Shut the fuck up," said Celestina. The man said nothing more, but the look in his eyes was dangerous. "Now. Which one of you is Giacomo Dante?"

They paused, surprised to encounter someone who was genuinely unfamiliar with the most wanted terrorist in Italy. After a moment's hesitation, the dark-skinned man stepped forward. He said, "I am."

Celestina fired twice, hitting the man in his chest and head. He fell, dead before hitting the floor. She turned her gun to the remaining man. "Now then," she said, "Signore Dante, right? You're coming with me."

Giacomo Dante said nothing at first, but Celestina could see the rage building up in his body. That his plan had been interrupted by a little girl was unimaginable. Never had it crossed his mind that someone would outmaneuver him. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he said between clenched teeth.

"Celestina Alvise. One of the last matriarchs of the Alvise Family. And after today? The new most dangerous psychopath in Europe."

Again Dante said nothing. But he glanced down at his dead comrade.

Celestina activated her radio. "Attention all Fratelli," she said, "This is Celestina. I've found Giacomo Dante. I repeat: the target is in my cust—"

Dante reached behind him and threw the spotter's scope at Celestina, hitting her in the face. This stunned her long enough for him draw his sidearm and fire. Celestina, with swift and unpredictable movements, retreated down the hallway, firing back in an attempt to keep Dante from taking proper aim.

She entered the lounge again and took cover. After reloading, she prepared to jump out and disable Dante with a few quick and accurate shots, but the plaster and marble near her head was being chipped away by pistol rounds. As expected, Celestina's opponent had excellent accuracy and reflexes. Over the sounds of gunfire she heard him yell something about a helicopter.

When the shooting stopped, Celestina jumped out into the hallway in time to see Dante disappear into a nearby stairwell. She followed and reached the door before it closed. As she did so, a grenade rolled out into the hallway, stopping at her feet. She only had a second to turn and dive before it exploded.

Dante spat in contempt, but did not stop to find the body of his opponent. He climbed the stairs, knowing that the girl's announcement would cause the GIS and SWA to scramble in search of his location. When he reached the roof, his escape vehicle was hovering a short distance above, waiting for him. He used the crate dangling from the helicopter as a platform, which was lifted up so that he could enter the helicopter proper.

The pilot said, "Giacomo, a boat is rapidly approaching the island."

Dante looked out over the water and surely enough, he spotted a speedboat. He sneered. "Give them a warm welcome," he said.

The helicopter turned and one of the men inside manned the minigun, firing down onto the boat. From this distance, they could see that the passengers were forced to abandon ship. However, after only a few seconds of sustained fire, the minigun stopped abruptly when a small hand appeared from below the helicopter, grabbed the gunner's ankle, and yanked him out to fall, screaming, to the roof of the resort.

Celestina, having caught onto the bottom of the raised platform just before it left her reach, pulled herself into the helicopter and immediately locked eyes with an incredulous Dante. The latter reached again for his sidearm, but Celestina slapped it out of his hands, pinned him to a seat, and pounded his face with her fist.

"Stop! Shooting! At! My! Friends!" she said in time to her knuckles crashing into her opponent's nose, eyes, and mouth.

She raised her fist again, but Dante managed to kick her off. He grabbed her collar and pulled her in with one hand before delivering his elbow to her temple. Then he twisted her arm behind her back and slammed her face against the door of the helicopter. He threw her onto a seat, wrapped the fingers of both hands around her throat, and squeezed.

"Sir!" said the pilot, "We have a problem. Enemy choppers are closing on us, fast."

"What!" said Dante. He released his grip on Celestina, who coughed and gulped air greedily, to look outside. As he did so, a military helicopter caught up and matched the speed of his own. The two vehicles were less than a dozen meters apart.

The door of this second helicopter opened to reveal two girls within. One, to Dante's alarm, looked exactly like the one he had just been strangling. She called out at him, but her words were drowned out by the sound of the rotors. She made a rude gesture. The other girl was taller, with mocha skin and blonde hair. She raised a shotgun and leveled it at him.

Thinking quickly, Dante turned back to use Celestina as a prisoner. She appeared weak and weary from her beating. He reached for her throat, but as he did so, his would-be hostage snatched one of his fingers, snapping it with a jerk. His cry of pain, however, was cut short by Triela, who fired a beanbag from her shotgun which caught Dante in the back of the head. He slumped limply over Celestina's shoulder.

She shrugged him off in disgust. Then she approached the pilot, leaning in close so he could better hear her. "Set us down," she said, "Your boss isn't looking so good."

The pilot looked at the girl, saw the look of angry exasperation in her eyes, and agreed.

* * *

Later That Evening

"The doctors say Chiara should be alright," said Triela, "But this next week will be critical. Personally, I think she'll pull through."

"That's good," said Caterina, "I couldn't tell how badly she was injured while we were out there."

"What about Beatrice?" said Celestina.

"They've already attached her new arm, but it's acting a little strangely."

"What," said Caterina, "Like it has a mind of its own?"

"No, _idiota_, it's…well, it's the wrong color."

"Green?" said Caterina.

"Blue," said Celestina.

Triela ignored them. "In any case, the doctors think the color will adjust with enough time in the sun." She sighed then, and fell into a chair as if the strain of the day had hit her all at once. "Has anyone come by to talk to you yet?"

"No," said Celestina as she polished a small crystal cat, "Why would they?"

"Well, for starters, you disobeyed your orders…"

Caterina said, "Technically, we were still waiting for our orders."

"…You withheld mission-relevant intelligence from your superiors…"

"All of it conjecture and inference," said Celestina.

"…And you went after the most dangerous man in Europe on your own."

"_Second_ most dangerous," said Celestina, "I'm the most dangerous now."

Caterina looked up from a chunk of wood she had been envisioning as a bayonet. "Hang on," she said, "I thought we would share the title."

"After that fight, _Sorella_, I think I've earned it."

"Alright," said Triela before the argument could begin in earnest, "Shut up, you two. You're fighting over an imaginary title. The point is, none of what you did was authorized or planned and the staff's not going to be happy."

Celestina said, "I don't see why they wouldn't be."

"They got everything they wanted and more," said Caterina, "And a lot of it is because of us."

"Why aren't either of you worried about this?" said Triela, "I thought I said we should avoid unnecessary attention. You know what's coming, don't you? Forget reconditioning. They could put you down if they think you're 'defective.' That's the risk we run whenever we don't behave according to their expectations. And to say that about your actions today would be a massive understatement."

There was a knock on the door. The three girls exchanged a look. "Come in," said Triela.

At this, Jean entered, looking grim as usual. He shut the door behind him with a flat, "Girls."

"Evening, sir," said Caterina.

"How can we help you?" said Celestina.

Jean clasped his hands behind his back. He said, "I just wanted to compliment you on a job well done."

"It was nothing," said Caterina.

"You three would be in a lot of trouble," Jean said, "Ordinarily."

Triela took this as a bad sign. "Listen," she said, "I want to apologize on behalf of these two. It should have been my responsibility to—"

Jean silenced her with a raised hand. "There's no need," he said. "Though you acted out of line, the Chief could not help but acknowledge the skills you displayed today. He believes, and I agree, that they may be useful to us in the future when we call upon them in an official capacity. You won't be rewarded, but you won't be punished, either. Not this time, at least."

Celestina said, "That's very gracious of you, sir. We appreciate it. May we ask how the prisoner is doing?"

"He's well enough," said Jean, "But that could change at any time. You never know." The three girls shivered slightly. "Well, anyway, that's all I have to say about the matter. Let this be a simple warning."

He opened the door again and stepped out. He turned and said, "And girls? You have my thanks." He shut the door behind him.

A brief silence fell upon the room. Eventually, Triela rolled her eyes and looked at the Twins, both of whom were sporting smug looks. "What do you want me to say?" said Triela.

The Twins shrugged. "You don't have to say anything…"

"…_Leprotto_." They burst into uproarious laughter.

Triela groaned. "It's going to be a long year," she said.


End file.
